Giulio Malcangi

The loo

Bathophobia:
when I sit
in my heart.

Ophthalmia:
when I observe
my soul.

Lively, I was.
Mystified, I am.
Cluttered, I will be.

I drink toluene
and I piss TNT.
I die, exploding,
into this toilette,
devastated,
destroyed
in its ruins.

Deep ceramic,
in the flesh
and water,
bloody red liquid,
drizzling
in the drain:
little hole,
as a pool of a river
wich was my life. 



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